Victim #2
I died on a Thursday, a bloody mess on the grass, shadows all around.
That day I didn't have many plans, just a few errands, then a date that evening. Everything went wonderfully; the guy was tall, dark haired, had eyes the blue of the ocean, and we clicked. After the the renaissance fair and some dinner, he walked me to the edge of the park.
“I'll be fine from here, thanks,” I said, smiling at him in the moon light, and rearranging my shawl.
“Are you sure? I don't want any wandering suitors to come along and sweep you off your feet.” He pulled me in, settled his hands on my hips, and pressed his lips against mine. I felt a flutter in my stomach.
“I'll simply say 'I am taken until further notice. Please hang up, and try again later.'” He laughed and spun me around.
“Tomorrow night, same time, same place?” He said. I started to walk along the path into the trees.
“Sounds lovely. Farewell, good sir!” I said.
I heard him laugh faintly.
“Farewell, dear maiden!”
I continued walking along the path, a song in my heart, and let everything amaze me. The gentle breeze whispering through the tall stately trees, the bright sky over head, the scent of earth and distant flowering trees. Coming around a corner, I stopped suddenly. There was a tall bald man standing in front of me, hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket, small earrings glinting in the moon light. With the moon to his back, he had black holes for eyes, and the shadow made him look like some sort of demon. I slid my hand into my purse for my pocket knife, and carefully pulled it out. The man grinned, and his teeth glowed. Then, his body started churning and snapping, twisting out of shape, elongating, until a mighty cobra rose as high as the trees, scales gleaming like jewels. Vicious green eyes slanted down on me, and I shook like a reed in the wind.
“Little one, why do you wander the dark night alone?” He hissed, swaying back and forth in front of me. I clenched my hand around my knife, knowing it would do little good.
“What are you?” I asked, my voice trembling. He laughed, a vile scraping sound, and began to wrap himself around me, drawing tighter and tighter.
“Please....Please.....Ple--” I gasped, as the dry scaly muscles of the snake started to crush my bones. I could hear myself breaking, and felt hot pain everywhere inside of me. Blood dripped from my nose and mouth, but I did not feel it. He withdrew, and as I lay broken on the pavement, he returned to the form of a man, took my knife from my still clenched hand, and used it to cut a piece of my hair. Then, he turned and left me there, my body twisted and shapeless. I closed my eyes.
My name is Elanor McKinney.
I died on a Thursday, a bloody mess on the grass, shadows all around.
**
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